


with love (from me, to you)

by ghostlin



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Dubious Seance Practices, F/M, Family Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Mostly Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:53:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26758300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlin/pseuds/ghostlin
Summary: Now that the band is officially back together, Julie’s getting kind of sick of having to translate everything for Flynn every time they all hang out. And don’t even get her started on Carlos’s newfound fascination with Julie’s so-called “spooky band friends”.Needless to say, the guys come up with some colourful solutions all on their own.
Relationships: Alex & Flynn (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Carlos Molina & Reggie, Flynn & Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 107
Kudos: 593





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These idiots wandered into my heart and were all like, "we live here now". So. This happened!
> 
> I really love how everything is solved in the show through the power of love and friendship. Truly sublime. I've tried to emulate this here. 
> 
> Also: I know that the boys were shown to touch type in the show, but I thought it would be funnier and more realistic if they're not all great at it. (The likelihood being that they didn't all have access to a personal computer in the early/mid 90s, and their typing skills just ain't it when they crash land in the year of our lord 2020).

“Arrghh!” 

The pillow flies through the air and hits Reggie with a resounding _smack._ It’s really satisfying to actually make _contact_ when she hurls stuff at the boys, even if Julie’s blood pressure is probably hitting the roof on the regular these days. 

Reggie yelps and rolls off her bed, groaning in faux-agony. Julie dashes forward and snatches her phone from the debris of pillows he leaves in his wake. She waves it in his face, trying to convey an authority that’s vaguely reminiscent of her tía. 

“Reggie! Boundaries!” She goes to swipe the screen lock, before freezing with surprise. “Wait… how’d you even _unlock_ it?” 

“Ow,” Reggie rubs at his brow. A dark strand of hair has fallen across his forehead, and his cheeks are slightly flushed. She feels a pang of guilt before she remembers that he’s the master of theatrical injuries. 

She glares. _“Reggie.”_

“Worth a try,” Reggie grumbles, flopping onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. To his credit, he does look a bit sheepish. His face squishes the way it does when a new thought strikes him. “You might wanna change your password. S’a little, uh,” he smirks at her. _“Obvious.”_

Julie feels her cheeks heat up. " _Stop_ going through my stuff!”

“L-U-K-E? Really?” He snickers, rolling under -- no, _through_ \-- her bed to avoid a second pillow hurled at his head. “Aw, c’mon! I thought you were having a sleepover with Flynn tonight!”

Julie shoves her phone into her shoulder bag. “And you _know_ the phone comes with me,” she says, adding a soft _“idiot_ ,” just to watch him sit upright and give her a wide grin. 

His hair is sticking up at odd angles. 

In that moment, she thinks, _I've gained a brother without really trying._

She shakes her head with disapproval as she walks backwards out of the room, but she’s still grinning when she waves goodbye to Carlos and her dad, who are in the living room watching Chopped.

(And Alex, who, unbeknownst to the other two, is also watching Chopped.)

***

Here is the thing about living with the guys: she really likes it. 

_Really_ , she does. 

Most of the time it’s great. They can have band practice whenever, hang out late at night, write music and watch movies and just _be_ rowdy seventeen year olds. She loves them, and they love her. She wouldn’t have it any other way. 

It’s just that sometimes, she needs...

“Look. It’s not like, a big deal or anything.”

Julie is hanging upside-down off the edge of Flynn’s bed. Flynn is brushing out her damp curls, braiding sections and twisting in little star-shaped hair slides to hold it all in place. 

She’s so fixated on her task that it takes her a moment to reply. “What's not a big deal?”

“Alex is surprisingly great at calculus,” they both wince at the word _calculus_ , and Julie laughs. “I know, but he’s a really good tutor, okay? And Reggie... Reggie has his _moments_ \--” Flynn glares at that; she’s been informed about today's phone incident. As far as Flynn is concerned, the mismanagement of phones is a cardinal sin. “-- but he’s super sweet. And he _really_ loves my dad, for some reason.”

Julie flips onto her belly and pokes Flynn’s face until the latter stops glowering at Reggie's phone thievery and giggles. “And _Luke_..."

Flynn interrupts her. “Uh huh. Luke’s super duper dreamy and you want to marry him and adopt a hundred and one dogs and a chinchilla. _We get it_ , Julie.”

“A _chinchilla?_ That’s so specific,” Julie says.

“Hey,” Flynn shrugs. “You have your dreams, I have mine.”

Julie thinks about the boys some more. This train of thought rapidly circles back to thinking about Luke, and she has to bury her head in a pillow to hide her glowing cheeks.

“Ugh,” Flynn sits back and picks up a nail file, pointing it at Julie. “So what’s the problem?”

"There's no _problem_ , exactly," Julie bites her lip. "Only... they just have each other for company. And me, I guess. And the occasional ghost they bump into along the way. But -- that’s it. They get bored," she fiddles with one of her star encrusted braids. "And I can't deal with a bored Reggie, Flynn! There's only so many times a girl can change her phone password." 

“ _Ah_ ,” Flynn says, getting it. “They need some _social enrichment.”_

“Um, they're not...” Julie frowns. “They’re not tigers, Flynn.”

“Aren’t they?” Flynn folds her arms behind her head and grins at her, satisfied. _“Aren’t_ they.”

  
  


***

  
  


Once Flynn gets an idea in her head, she cannot be stopped. There will be diagrams. There will be a selection of pastel highlighters. There’s a strong likelihood that powerpoints will somehow be involved. 

And _"Operation Ghost Friends: Phase One”_ is no exception. 

“Okay, listen up everyone,” Flynn addresses the empty garage in front of her with her arms folded and her chin held high. Julie hovers at her left, looking nervous. She grants her a reassuring smile before continuing. “I got several ideas, but we’re gonna start with the obvious one for now.”

She pulls out three whiteboards and a selection of pens from her book bag with a flourish, waggling them in the air.

“My grandma’s pretty deaf now, so we use these to communicate with her!” She explains, telling herself it isn't awkward. Just because she can't _see_ them, doesn't mean they aren't listening. “Uh… Julie? Care to jump in?”

Julie takes the whiteboards from Flynn and turns to face Reggie, Alex and Luke. All three of them are gazing at her with varying levels of apprehension, skepticism, and, in Reggie’s case, confusion. 

Reggie raises a hand. “Question. Won’t it be weird if we’re out in public and people can just see a _pen_ floating in the air? We totally almost got busted the last time --” Luke elbows him hard in the ribs, and he wheezes. “I mean -- we’re super stealthy ghosts, Flynn! We’d never compromise that!” 

He waves his hands in front of her face as if to emphasise his point, and Julie shoves a whiteboard into his hands. “Write it down, dude! She can’t see you.”

Reggie scribbles something on the whiteboard and holds it up for Flynn to see. 

Flynn tilts her head to the side and examines the floating whiteboard with interest. There’s a crudely drawn picture of a ghost with a bow tie and sunglasses on it. 

“Get it?” Reggie taps the board with his pen, looking pleased. “It’s a ghost, but a spy! Super sneaky! They should hire us to do espionage. _Ghost_ -spionage, if you will. Cus that’s what we are," he flourishes his pen in the air, winking. "Subtle."

Julie closes her eyes. The couch is looking _really_ tempting all of a sudden.

“We might have to rethink this,” she says to Flynn.

They've only just begun, and she’s totally ready for a nap. 

***

Half an hour, several pens and one shouting match later, and they give up on the whiteboard idea. 

Alex manages to have a semi-functional, if stilted, conversation with Flynn about how street dance has changed since the mid ‘90s, but that’s about it. 

Luke gets frustrated early on because no-one can decipher his handwriting, and collapses onto the couch with his head in Julie’s lap, refusing to budge. 

Reggie’s train of thought switches track way too fast for Flynn to keep up with his scrawl, and he’s far too fond of simply _drawing_ his thoughts to get his point across.

The problem with this approach is that the only person who can make sense of the drawings is Reggie. 

“ _No_ , look -- popcorn, _walrus_ , sunshine --” Reggie writes captions under each image and circles them for emphasis. “Symbolising us making new _friends,_ ” he points at Flynn, “And maybe going to the cinema, or the beach! I don't know, fun stuff! Hanging out!”

Julie snorts at Alex and Flynn’s matching expressions of befuddlement. When Flynn rounds on her in frustration, she holds up her free hand; the other is busy patting Luke’s hair reassuringly. 

“Trust me,” she snickers. “If anything, hearing the explanation just raises more questions.” 

“But where does the walrus come in?” Alex says. He writes his question out for Flynn, who nods gratefully in his general direction. 

“Exactly!” Her braids fly everywhere as she flings her hands up in frustration. “Ugh, this is useless.”

Julie leans back against the couch cushions, stares at the chairs hanging from the ceiling, and listens to the frantic squeaking of pens moving against whiteboards. 

(Eventually, in an attempt to calm things down, Luke gets up and suggests a game of Pictionary.)

(This would be pinpointed later as the direct cause of the shouting match.)

***

Flynn proposes her next idea after school the following day, while she and Julie shoot hoops in the yard. 

She catches the basketball and holds it to her chest, ignoring Julie’s sigh of frustration. She has informed Flynn that the boys have placed bets on who can score the most hoops, but aside from a rough chalk tally they've drawn on the tarmac, they’re laying low for now.

“So... the boys can’t be seen or heard by anyone but you, right?” She dribbles the ball and aims it, closing one eye and concentrating hard. The ball catches the rim of the hoop and bounces off. No dice. _“Except_ when you’re playing music.” 

“Yeah,” Julie ducks in front of her and snatches up the basketball. “So? They can’t exactly _sing_ their way through a conversation, can they?”

Flynn gives her a _look._ Julie pivots around on her heel, shaking her head in disbelief. She tosses her hair at the empty space behind them and snorts in response to something Flynn can't hear. 

“Hey,” Flynn shrugs. “Can’t knock it till you try it,” she turns towards the spot where she’s ninety percent sure the boys are sat listening to them intently. “Isn’t that right, guys?”

There’s a brief pause, and then Julie shrugs, chuckling. “Like talk-sing to you?” She dribbles the basketball a couple of times before shooting neatly. “I don’t know whether --” her gaze flickers, landing somewhere above Flynn’s left shoulder. “ _No_ , Alex, I don’t know which melody you should go with. Does it matter?”

More silence. Flynn sighs; it's _so_ unnerving, watching Julie listen so intently to thin air. She's not sure she'll never get used to it. 

A guitar riff starts playing out of nowhere.

Luke poofs into existence with a look of intense concentration on his face. Flynn jumps with surprise, grabbing the front of Julie’s sweatshirt. 

“ _J_ _eez,_ that’s creepy.”

Julie rolls her eyes and gently disentangles herself, nodding. “I _know_ , right?” She blinks. “Hang on a minute. You can see them?”

Flynn watches Luke bite his lip as he plays a few opening chords. Okay, she _can_ kind of see why the guy turns Julie to goop. His sleeveless shirts are _ridiculous_ , even if his style is a touch too grungy for her liking. 

“Just, uh. Just Luke,” she says. 

“ _Du…. du… something... crowding my icebox,_ ” Luke flashes a grin at Flynn’s bemused face. “ _Flynn has cool haaaiir, she’s Julie’s frieeend,_ ” he sings, and plays a few more chords, frowning with concentration. “ _She sometimes walks through our booodies_ …”

The sound of a disembodied bass ripples through the air. It is swiftly followed by Reggie, who slides around Luke and comes to a halt in front of Flynn, smiling broadly. _“In the toooown… where I was boooorn… lived a giiirl… a girl caaaalled Flynn…”_

Luke frowns and shoulder-barges Reggie out of the way, singing loudly. _“Flynn must forgiiive… my stupid bandmate…”_

A frantic drumbeat starts up, and the hiss of the snares makes Flynn squeal and jump backwards into Julie.

Alex comes crashing into existence, drowning out the other two with an impressive amount of musical force. _“Cus you’re just a girl, and you’re super rad… you have fun hats and you’re fierce… I learned that word... from watching tv, I hope that it’s in the right conteeeeext…”_

The cacophony grows louder and louder and Flynn is forced to cover her ears as Julie yells for everyone to _shut up_ before her dad comes outside. They all fall silent, and vanish one by one until only Luke remains, busking sadly on his guitar. 

_“Ooooh... say it ain’t so… we’re sorry that we messed up…. Ooooohh… say it ain't so… we should have all played the same song....”_

He throws Flynn a final remorseful glance that reminds her of nothing so much as a kicked puppy before poofing out of existence. 

The silence that follows is deafening. Flynn turns to Julie, her ears ringing. 

“Well,” Flynn manages after a few moments. “Maybe we could workshop _that_ idea!"

Julie just groans and drops her head into her hands. 

  
  


***

Although “singing your feelings” (as Reggie puts it) turns out to be far more difficult in practice than in theory, it does make them realise something important:

Flynn doesn’t just hear the boys when they play music any more. She can _see_ them too, regardless of whether Julie is performing with them or not.

Julie’s unsure what this means, and whether or not it’s a good sign, but it seems to get the guys excited. And they’re not the only ones who are keen to make contact across the physical realm and the spiritual one. 

“I heard quite a ruckus outside earlier,” Julie’s dad scoops pasta into three bowls before tearing a giant garlic flatbread into equal portions. Julie and Carlos watch this process with considerable interest. “Are you guys experimenting with a new sound?” He rubs at his ear and winces. “Cus I gotta say, I think I prefer the classic stuff.”

The garlic bread is distributed along with the rest of the meal. Julie and Carlos engage in a silent battle of wills for the biggest piece before Carlos eventually concedes defeat.

Julie takes a victorious bite before she fully registers her dad’s question. “Uh…” she chews, swallowing. “Not really. We were just hanging out with Flynn.”

Her dad seems to accept this, but Carlos’s eyes go wide. _Ghost stuff?_ He mouths at her.

She shakes her head furiously. _Not now._

To her relief, Carlos drops it for the remainder of the meal. Once the plates are cleared and she pads upstairs to her room, however, he’s back on her case. 

“Flynn talked to them?” He hisses, slipping after her through her bedroom door before she can close it in his face. _"_ _Woah_. How?” 

“It was stupid, okay?” Julie crawls onto her bed and hugs her fluffiest pillow to her chest. “And it didn’t work. We’re trying to figure out a way for the guys to communicate with people that aren’t,” she points at herself. “Yours truly. But it’s going _terribly._ ” 

“Wait, the guys were _singing_ instead of talking to her, so that she could hear them?” Carlos says excitedly. “That’s so smart!”

Julie groans and faceplants the pillow. She takes momentary refuge in its blissful softness before she emerges reluctantly. “In theory. But they all started singing to different tunes. Honestly, it was kind of a mess.”

“Oh,” a little wrinkle appears between Carlos’s eyebrows. “Well… what happens if just one of them sings?”

“We... didn’t get that far,” admits Julie. "We gave up."

Carlos appears to lose interest after that. He wanders off to work on his LEGO starship thing, a project Julie doesn't vibe with on account of all the tiny plastic pieces that embed themselves into her unsuspecting feet, but that Alex and Reggie are heavily invested in. 

Later that night, when she puts down her toothbrush and switches the bathroom light off, she becomes aware of a faint noise coming from Carlos’s room. 

She creeps out into the corridor. Her curiosity is piqued further when she sees that Carlos’s door is ajar. 

The faint glow of the nightlight is offset by a figure sitting at the end of her little brother’s bed, softly strumming a melody. Julie presses her cheek into the doorframe and smiles. 

_Reggie._

Strands of the song that Reggie’s playing to Carlos wind their way towards her, and she finds herself comforted by the sound of his voice. It’s lower than she’s used to hearing it, and surprisingly gentle. 

_“If there’s anything that you want, if there’s anything I can do, nah nah nah… just call on me, and I’ll send it along… with love, from me, to you.”_

She listens to him play for a little while longer, smiling a secret smile to herself, before wending her way to bed. 

Maybe Flynn was right; this whole communication idea just be worth pursuing after all. 

***

After that, Carlos gets in on their brainstorming sessions. 

“Google text-to-speech!” He holds his laptop aloft, looking triumphant. “This is it, guys! This is _foolproof_.” 

“Little man’s comin’ through!” Reggie holds a hand up for Carlos to high-five. When he’s inevitably left hanging, he simply shrugs and high-fives himself. “Wow,” he pretends to wipe a tear from his eye, sighing. “They grow up so fast.”

“And we can all _type_ words,” Alex reasons, throwing a significant look at Luke, who glares at him. 

Ten minutes later, and between them they’ve managed four and a half sentences. 

“Can’t you guys speed it up a little?” Flynn says in exasperation. “My grandpa types faster than you. Like, _way_ faster.” 

Luke looks up from the keyboard, and the frown he gives her borders on pout territory. Julie’s been showing him all the smiley faces you can make out of the letters on a computer. He’s been searching for the letter D for the last ten seconds, and he _just_ found it. 

“We didn’t grow up with crazy fast internet, okay? Or these super-lightweight laptops,” Alex points out, folding his arms. “If you tried to load one picture too many, our computers _melted,_ ” at Julie’s horrified expression, he nods solemnly. “You heard me. Reggie’s the only one of us who can touch type."

 _sup carlos_ , says the laptop. _this is reginald._ _do u want to go get ice cream and also what is bit coin?_

Julie stares at Alex, and then at Reggie, who wiggles his fingers over the keyboard and grins at her. 

“What?” He says, registering her expression. “These dinosaurs were taking forever!" 

“Sure!” Carlos says happily. “I’ll explain it on the way!” He leaps to his feet. “Let’s go!”

“That’s... not necessarily a good thing, by the way,” Alex concedes, watching Carlos rush to grab his coat from off the peg and Reggie follow along in his wake.

“Dad said I can visit the bodega with a responsible friend,” Carlos tells the air beside him, bouncing with excitement. “I’ll be back soon, Julie!”

“Hear that, guys?” Reggie says, sounding thrilled. “I’m responsible!” 

“Uh...” Flynn looks askance at Julie, and then at the laptop. “What just happened?” 

_Reggie just happened_ , says the laptop, after a brief interval.

Julie and Flynn glance at each other and then collapse into a mutual fit of giggles.

Luke sits back and pillows his head with his arms. After Julie throws him a glowing look and wipes tears of mirth from her eyes, he glances at Alex smugly. 

“Should someone go after them?” Flynn gestures to the front door, through which Carlos and Reggie have just exited. Her shoulders are still shaking slightly. “They can’t _really_ communicate with each other.”

Julie shakes her head, still smiling. “They’ll be fine,” she meets Luke’s eye and smiles at the way his expression softens. “I trust them.”

  
  


***

Carlos’s idea proves to be the most effective one yet.

Flynn downloads a text-to-voice app for her phone to use in crucial band meetings, but half the time the guys end up simply typing their messages out for her to read. 

“It seems like that’s how people talk these days, anyway,” Luke blows his fringe out of his eyes, pressing his thumbs carefully against the screen. “They just constantly send little messages back and forth. Ugh. Whatever happened to actually talking on the phone?”

Julie laughs at him, sliding her arms around his waist and resting her chin on his shoulder to watch his progress. “Hey, you’re getting better though!” 

She giggles when he drops the phone in surprise and the tips of his ears go pink. They’re still unused to this whole _touching_ business, but hey. Hugs are _good._

He turns properly, pulling her close and burying his grin in her shoulder. 

And she’s glad he’s holding on tight, ‘cause in that moment, she feels like she could float away. 

***

The boys come up with the next solution by themselves. 

Reggie claims the (dubious) credit: inspiration strikes when Carlos reminds him of the time he scared their tía by floating a bedsheet around the living room. 

“At least this way, the others will know where we’re standing,” Reggie explains to Luke before draping a sheet over his head. Luke blinks at him through the poorly cut eye-holes. “I hate when people walk through me,” he says, shuddering. A thought strikes him, and he winks at Julie. “‘Cept when it’s _Ray_.”

“Uh uh,” Julie shakes her head at him, her mouth turned downward with displeasure. “Nope.” 

“Julie?” Alex moves foreword, stumbling a little on the trailing edge of his sheet. It’s actually a giant, lace-edged tablecloth she’d found in the loft, but she thinks Alex can pull it off. “How are we supposed to play our instruments in these?” 

“Oh, these aren’t for rockin', my dude,” Reggie windmills his arms, demonstrating his freedom of movement. “These are for _miming._ You know, like _charades!”_

Slowly, one at a time, Flynn pulls her legs up onto the couch without taking her wide eyes off the disembodied white shapes that rustle across the floor of the garage in front of her. 

“Julie,” she whispers. “This is _really_ creepy.” 

“Ok Flynn, what am I doing?” Reggie starts paddling with an imaginary oar. “Julie, tell her she has three guesses.” 

Julie tells her.

“Uh,” Flynn notices that the bedsheet that allegedly contains Reggie has tiny cacti embroidered all over the hem. “Um. Playing tennis? I don’t…” 

The sheet shakes its head no. 

Flynn smiles at it, feeling suddenly shy. “You’re… you’re. Hang on. You’re changing a lightbulb!”

The sheet shakes again, and resumes its strange rustling movements. 

“Wait. Holy shit, I got it!” Flynn yells suddenly. “You’re paddling a _canoe!_ ” 

The sheet leaps into the air before swooping down onto Flynn, who promptly screams and dives into the couch for cover.

“Dude,” Luke grabs the arm of a jubilant Reggie, pulling him off the couch. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She did it!” Reggie says, glowing with pride. His sheet has fallen off, covering the now-terrified Flynn, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed. “ _We_ did it! Oh,” he spots Flynn, who is peeking out from the top of the sheet. “Sorry! I --”

He squeezes his eyes shut, and his bass pops into his hands. As he strums a few notes Flynn lowers the sheet further, her lips twitching. 

_“My bad… that was my bad… oooooohh…”_ His fingers dance along the strings, and he hums a little. _“Unexpected ghost hugs… didn’t mean to freak you out…”_

Flynn lets out a cackle before she dissolves into hysterical laughter. “Oh my god, Reggie!” She manages to collect herself, getting up and draping the sheet over his shoulders like a cape. “Warn a girl!”

“ _Your feedback is noted… woooaah…”_ Reggie just has time to give her a bow before he poofs out of existence, and he grins at her when she falls back onto the couch giggling, her earlier fear forgotten. “Guys, it’s happening!” He fistpumps the air.

“New friends!” Alex accepts his fistbump with a sunny smile. “Can we take these off now?”

Luke tugs his sheet off with a sigh of relief. “Full disclosure, I couldn’t see anything the entire time,” he says. Sticking his tongue out in concentration, he types this confession into Julie’s phone and sends it the icon marked _Flynn <3\. _

Flynn smiles down at her phone. And for the first time, Julie feels like they're all actually hanging out in the garage _together._

***

Julie doesn’t even want to know what kind of movies Carlos has been watching for him to come up with his latest idea. She’s even more disturbed when Flynn and the guys are totally on board with it. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Luke says brightly, carrying an ornate looking candelabra that apparently added _atmosphere,_ according to Alex. 

“Uh,” Julie gapes. “We accidentally open a portal to _hell?”_ She shifts the box she’s carrying in her arms. “Dad’s gonna be _so_ mad if I open a portal to hell in the living room. You have no idea.”

Luke gives her a crooked smile. “I don’t know. Sounds pretty gnarly.” 

Julie sighs, and Luke turns serious. “Hey, c’mon. It’ll be fine. We’ll sit around the table, light a couple candles... say some gibberish, and call it a night. Okay?”

Julie straightens, nodding. “Okay.”

“The guys need this,” Luke murmurs as she sets the box down on the table and starts pulling out candles. “Human connection. Kind of hard to come by when you’re a ghost.”

“I know,” she reaches out and takes his hand in both of hers, drawing him close. She looks up at him; his eyes are wide and soft. “And… you never know. Who knows how this ghost thing works? Maybe it’ll do something.” 

Luke tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe.”

They stand close for a moment, breathing in each other’s space. Luke has crazy long eyelashes for a boy, thinks Julie. She’s noticed them before, but it keeps cropping up in her mind every time she looks at him recently.

Reggie poofs into the kitchen, and they spring apart from each other hastily.

Seemingly oblivious to any newfound tension, Reggie dumps a bunch of sage onto the table between them. “I found this. Carlos says that the room needs to be cleansed of evil energies before we begin," he flings his eyes wide, throws his arms around Luke's and Julie's shoulders and brings them in for a hug. "It's _séance_ _time_ , baby!" 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took five thousand years to finsih, I had job related writing and life things to do sadly! I will probably go in and edit a bit tomorrow BUT I'm unwilling to look at this any more tonight. Hope you like!

“It’s _seancé time_ , baby!” Reggie bursts into the kitchen, and they spring apart from each other hastily. He dumps a bunch of sage onto the table between them. “I bought this. Carlos says that the room needs to be cleansed of evil energies before we begin.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, I love that my baby brother has become such an inspiration to you,” Julie rolls her eyes, gathering up the messy bundle of herbs before it goes everywhere. “But can we please just _try_ to keep things normal tonight?”

At Reggie and Luke’s expressions, she sighs. “As normal as _possible_ , then. Just a nice, chill, hangout sesh,” she points a stern finger directly at Reggie, who holds his hands up, the very picture of innocence. “Where no-one bursts into any musical numbers, or -- or freaks out my family, or _wrecks_ my house.”

“When have we ever done any of that?” Reggie says easily, grinning at her. 

Sensing an imminent explosion, Luke gets in between them and stands in front of Julie. His hands come to rest on her shoulders, warm and steady. “He’s kidding, Jules. We’ll do the ritual thingy, then we can cross it off our list and move onto the next dumb thing someone comes up with.” 

“Uh, all my ideas have been great,” Reggie says, and this time they _both_ roll their eyes at him. “What? Name _one_ dumb idea I’ve had.”

“Hmm... “ Julie puts her hand up, crossing her fingers off an imaginary checklist as she speaks. “Number one, you scared my tía so bad that it’s been five weeks, and she _still_ won’t come into our house --”

“-- hey, _hey_ ,” Reggie splutters. “That one was for Carlos --” 

“Number two,” Julie continues, overriding him. “You made Alex get inside that cardboard box for like an _hour_ while we played Clue the other day --?”

“So Flynn didn’t walk through him by accident!” Reggie wails. “How was I supposed to know Alex is claustrophobic?”

“Because I’ve told you,” Alex says patiently, poofing into the room. He claps Reggie on the shoulder as he passes. “Many, _many_ times. Here,” he adds a large, cone-shaped metal thing to the growing pile of stuff on the table. “Willie stole this from the Hollywood Ghost Club for us. I thought it might come in handy.”

“What is that?” Julie wants to know. 

“A spirit horn!” Alex says with a flourish. “Old timey people used to use them to talk to ghosts, and I thought we could try it out tonight! Nothing to lose, right?”

Julie raises an eyebrow. “Do you… _blow_ into it, or?” 

Alex picks up the metal cone and eyes Julie through the narrow end like it’s a telescope, rocking back and forth on his heels. Luke snatches it off him and examines it from every angle, before Reggie takes it off of _him_ and blows into it loudly, making them all jump. 

“No,” Alex says, exasperated. “We _talk_ with it, see? It’s for listening to the voices of spirits! Like a telephone receiver!” He pries the horn out of Reggie's hands and holds it up to his ear to demonstrate. 

“Ah, finally a phone on your level,” smirks Julie. Insulting their outdated technological understanding is always a low blow, but it's a satisfying one nonetheless.

“Well, according to Willie, it was this,” Alex brandishes the horn defensively, “Or a Ouija board.” Julie hisses, recoiling. “Yeah, Molina, that’s what I thought!”

“Ooooh,” Reggie says excitedly. “Maybe we’ll summon something! Do you think unquiet spirits like hugs?”

“No,” Julie moans, but she’s quickly cut off.

“Hell yeah, dude,” Luke grins, high fiving Reggie before he catches sight of Julie’s expression. He blinks, and rapidly starts backpedalling. “I -- uh -- remember when Reggie put Alex inside that box? Let’s circle back to that!” 

“Nobody else got a box,” Alex adds, sounding a bit forlorn. “Only me. Why only me?”

“I don’t know, buddy,” Luke pats him on the arm. “I don’t know.”

***

The discourse over the cardboard box incident carries on right up until Flynn and Carlos arrive. 

They’ve collectively decided against snacks this evening, because it feels kinda mean (this is not to mention the sad noises that Luke makes every time he sees a Jolly Rancher). Flynn, however, has found an unexpected kindred spirit in Reggie when it comes -- bizarrely -- to scented candles.

“Hey guys!” Flynn swings her long braids over her shoulder and grins at the room at large. “Reg, this one smells like _lumberjack_ ,” she places a candle on the table and leans back, resting her chin in her hands and sighing. “Don’t ask me how I know, I just do,” she inhales deeply and grins, looking wistful and staring off into the middle distance. 

“ _Mountain Lodge_ ,” Reggie reads on the label, and sniffs dubiously. His eyes roll back in his head as he groans. “Oh, _man._ Smells exactly like Keanu Reeves,” he swallows, sniffing the candle again. “Oh lord.”

When he finally opens his eyes, everyone is staring at him. 

“I mean…” slowly, he sets the candle back down. “That’s… I wouldn’t know, obviously. If I had to... guess.” 

“I…” Alex shakes his head to himself. “Okay.” He leans down and sniffs appreciatively before sliding the candle over to Luke. 

“Wha -- That’s so _specific_ ,” Luke wrinkles his nose, frowning. He exchanges a glance with Alex, who is just barely managing to suppress his laughter. “It just smells like pine needles!”

“Some of us have a more _refined_ nasal palate,” Reggie says grandly, nodding at Flynn, who, of course, does not acknowledge him. 

Alex rolls his eyes and whips out a small notepad with frogs on it (a recent gift from Carlos), carefully printing REGGIE SAYS IT SMELLS LIKE KEANU REEVES and pushing it over to Flynn, who shrieks with delight. 

_“Yes_ ,” she sighs, satisfied. “Thank you! _Exactly_ ,” she throws a bright smile in Reggie’s approximate direction before turning to Julie to explain. “If the band thing falls through, me and Reggie are starting a candle boutique.” 

“It would be totally rad,” Reggie adds happily. “She made a logo to go on the Instant-gram an’ everything.”

Between them, Julie and Carlos have slowly been catching the guys up on some of the pop cultural highlights of the past decade. A self-proclaimed consummate Keanu Reeves fan, Reggie had been particularly taken with _The Matrix_ , _John Wick_ , and _The Lakehouse_ (the last DVD was “borrowed” from Julie’s tía at Reggie’s request; Julie had liked that one when they watched it, even if some elements of the “we can’t see or touch each other” romance plotline hit uncomfortably close to home).

About a week ago, Luke had given her a new perspective on the matter. 

He had told her in a quiet voice that they’d snuck out of school, and seen Keanu in _Point Break_ at the cineplex in ‘91. 

_“And then, we died. And the world carried on, y’know? Without us. The planet kept turning, Keanu Reeves kept making movies.” Luke shrugs, uncomfortable. “Reggie jokes around a lot, but… that doesn’t mean things are easy for him. I think he likes those films because they make him feel like… like things aren’t completely different, I guess. Like there’s stuff for us to hold onto.”_

Julie didn’t say much for the rest of that particular evening. 

The next time she saw Reggie, she hugged him tightly, and refused to let go for a long, long while.

***

This has to be the most poorly thought out seancé in the history of seancés, Julie thinks. 

Having millions of candles burning just feels like a recipe for disaster, so they eventually decide to put Flynn’s pine scented candle in the middle of the table. None of the internet guides say much about appropriate decor, but a candle, at any rate, feels like the bare minimum. They finish it off with a lacy table cloth underneath, and take their seats around the table with varying degrees of confidence. 

Having read the entire WikiHow page on how to perform a seancé, Flynn is the designated expert for the evening. 

“Um,” Alex looks around at them all, wrinkling his brow. “So… this is different.” 

Julie squeezes his hand reassuringly and watches his shoulders relax a little. 

In truth, her band are all looking a bit uneasy. They decided that the living should sit next to the dead (for maximum… reception?) and the guys don’t seem to know what to do with themselves now they’re deprived of their usual ability to pile on top of eachother like a litter of excitable puppies. 

It goes like this: Julie sits next to Alex, who is next to Flynn, who is next to Reggie, who is next to Carlos, who is next to Luke. The round table is the perfect size for them all to (theoretically) link hands for the seance, although they’re going to have to work around _that_ part, for obvious reasons. 

“So,” Flynn looks down, then up again, blinking uncertainty. Her eyes reflect the blue light from her phone screen. “Everyone who _can_ hold hands with whoever’s next to them… uh...” she looks at Julie, who gives her a nod and takes the hands of Luke and Alex. “I guess we’ll just ---” she and Carlos exchange glances, and then lay their hands, palm upwards, out in front of them. 

Reggie, Luke and Alex then place their hands overtop, hovering them a half-inch so that they don’t quite touch. 

After Julie confirms the guys are ready, Flynn continues. 

“We are here today to welcome our spirit friends,” she smiles, and Reggie, Luke and Alex grin back at her. “We’re not asking anyone or anything else to join us or make their presence known. We just want to -- uh -- lower the veil,” she hesitates. “Our ghost buddies, right here? We just want to be able to see them, and speak to them. Or… one or the other, I guess. If that’s easier. Please.”

A silence follows her words. The scented candle flickers a little bit, but other than that seems to happen. 

“Now what?” Reggie says at full volume, and is immediately _shh_ -ed. 

“Now,” Flynn says in a whisper. “We all have to focus on the same goal: making Alex, Luke and Reggie visible to me and Carlos. The same thought, at the same time. To guide the… um… energies. Everyone has to close their eyes.”

_Huh._

For a second there, it was almost like Flynn had... _replied_ to him. 

Julie shrugs to herself and closes her eyes, concentrating on the repetition of the single thought until it becomes a drumbeat in her mind, a mantra. A prayer. _Connect, connect, connect._

_Please. They need this. Whoever is out there… just give them this one thing, I’m begging you._

There’s more silence. A tap drips from somewhere in the house. Beside her, Luke shifts in his seat. 

Reggie starts making a humming noise. Julie cracks one eye open, squinting at him with suspicion. 

He stops humming. 

“Okay,” Flynn breathes out, and everyone drops their hands. Julie notices that her eyes are still closed, but the boys have all opened theirs, so she figures it’s okay to do the same. “Cool! Uh. So,” her fingers close around the spirit horn lying in front of her. “Ghost… trumpet time? I guess?” 

After a moment’s hesitation, she holds the spirit horn up to her ear.

Beside her, Reggie leans in closely and peers down the other end of the tube, frowning. He glances up at Alex. “What do I say?” He mouths. “I didn’t prepare anything!”

“That doesn’t usually stop you,” Alex mumbles, his head disappearing into his folded arms. 

“Flynn!” Reggie bellows. “It’s Reggie. How’s it hang --”

He doesn't manage anything else, because Flynn shrieks, leaps backwards from the table and claps a hand over her mouth. The spirit horn clatters to the floor, next to her chair, which now lies upended. 

Reggie, startled, falls silent. 

The others just sit there, motionless with shock. 

After he appears to recover himself, Reggie leans down and continues talking into the horn like nothing is amiss. “Sweet! You can hear me? This thing is on?” 

“Uh,” Flynn sidles backwards until her back touches the wall. “I can _see_ you, dude,” her head whips round, braids flying everywhere. “ _All_ of you!”

“Me too.” Carlos says, speaking for the first time in a while. His voice is small and amazed, and his eyes are round with astonishment. He pokes at Luke’s arm and his hand passes straight through him. “No touching, though.” 

_Give it time._ The thought pops, unbidden, into Julie’s head, and she looks at it curiously before putting it to the back of her mind. 

“D’you think it was the seancé, or the ghost trumpet?” Luke whispers. 

Julie thinks about Flynn’s ideas spreadsheet. About Carlos, painstakingly teaching an invisible Luke to how touch type. She thinks about Alex diligently transcribing messages on his notepad for Flynn, and the way that, every time she comes over, Flynn always remembers to bring a candle for Reggie.

She thinks, most of all, about the night she walked into the garage and spoke into the darkness, buoyed up by nothing but a desire to see them again, just one last time, even if they were gone. 

She thinks about the way she threw her arms around Luke without thought or hesitation, just a desire to be close to him. To all of them, really. Her band. She couldn’t lose them, so she _wished_ them back to her. 

“Love,” Julie whispers, heart full. She looks at Flynn and Carlos, and they look back at her, their eyes shining. “It was love.” 

  
  


***FIN***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The spirit horn is a totally real thing, btw, and it is hilarious: https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/spirit-trumpets-dead-speak
> 
> Also: I cannot substantiate Reggie's claim that Keanu smells like Mountain Lodge, but I HAVE given him some of my movie favourites. Forgive me.

**Author's Note:**

> The melodies I had in mind are as follows:  
> Luke starts off with Say It Ain't So by Weezer, Reggie jumps in with Yellow Submarine by the Beatles, and Alex goes for Just A Girl by No Doubt. (I technically cheated with the last one: they died the year that album came out, but oh well... I thought it was perfect for Alex.)  
> Reggie sings From Me To You by the Beatles to Carlos (which was also my inspiration for the title of this fic). When he sings his impromptu song to Flynn, he's attempting a bass riff that he insists is from Redbone but everyone says sounds exactly like the Pina Colada Song.  
> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed :)


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